A Thousand Words
by Samairi
Summary: A picture is worth a thousand words, and a writer's brush is his pen. Seamus and Dean discover different ways of expressing themselves. Dean/Seamus.


_A picture is worth a thousand words, and a writer's brush is his pen._

Seamus was Irish. As such, he wasn't good at expressing himself. A grin and a laugh could solve most problems, and the problems that had more complicated solutions were the ones Seamus usually avoided. He looked down at the piece of parchment in front of him. It had been lying there for the greater part of an hour, and yet only had one word written on it. Granted, there were multiple revisions of that word, with many scratched-out phrases accompanying them. The end result of the hour spent on the paper was simply: Dean-.

The sandy-haired boy stared at the parchment, chewing on the end of his quill. He really had no idea where to go from there. So many thoughts and emotions that he wanted to express, and yet nowhere to begin. Seamus decided to start from the very first time he saw his best friend.

0—0—0

Dean groaned and rolled over in his bed. The waking charm he had performed the night before had been successful; he had been awakened by the shrill chirping of birds. He fumbled for his wand, found it at the end of his bed, and performed the countercharm. The birdsong quieted.

He pulled back the curtains to his four-poster, still only half awake. He stumbled to the shower and quickly washed himself, then got dressed in his customary wizard's robes. Feeling significantly more awake, Dean retrieved his sketchbook from where it had ended up last night after he had fallen asleep while drawing. He turned to the page of his current work. His own face smiled back. He had drawn himself and Seamus together, apparently laughing at some joke or another. He had completed his own face, although his ears needed a bit more work, and was partway finished with Seamus'. Dean made sure to get every detail perfect on his friend's portrait; Seamus was too valuable to casually mar in a drawing.

Dean smiled and began filling in the lines he had previously drawn. It was almost time to head to classes, but Seamus always had a way of captivating Dean's attention.

0—0—0

Seamus was fidgeting. He always fidgeted, but today was worse than usual. He kept jiggling one leg up and down, then switching to the other leg, then tapping his quill against the desk, then going back to bouncing his leg. Finally, when Professor McGonagall wasn't looking, Dean reached over and tapped Seamus' desk. He passed him a note:

--Stop fidgeting, will you?

Seamus read it and stopped bouncing his leg. He glanced at Dean, then wrote something on the paper and handed it back.

--Sorry, anxious I guess.

Dean read it and replied.

--About what?

Seamus tapped his quill in thought a couple of times before he wrote back.

--I'll tell you after class.

Dean shrugged.

--Okay.

Professor McGonagall ended class with the assignment of a seven inch essay on how to turn a mushroom into a turkey. Neither Dean nor Seamus paid much mind to it, however.

"So why were you so anxious in there?" Dean asked on their way back to the common room.

Seamus sighed. "Because of this," he said, removing a folded sheet of paper from his pocket. "Don't be too mad at me." He handed the note to Dean and quickly walked in the other direction.

"But why would I be mad?" Dean asked belatedly. Seamus had already disappeared down the hallway; he received no reply. Dean unfolded the paper and read it. He became more and more stunned the further he read.

Dean—

I'm not sure where to begin, so I'll start at the beginning. I know we've been friends since first year, but I remember the first day I saw you on the Hogwarts Express. You seemed so confident, even though you were muggle-born. You were so comfortable with all of the strange people around you. I think that's what first drew me to you—your willingness to accept people. I hope that holds true after you read this letter.

So, for a while now, I've been thinking about you. I mean, of course I think about you all the time, you're my best friend, but it's different now. I guess first I should tell you that I think I'm gay. I say I think because I've only really liked one person, and he happens to be male. So yeah, I'm gay. First big thing out of the way.

Okay, second thing—I'm pretty much in love with you. Bloody hell, I can't believe I just said it…but I've liked you for a long time now and I just thought you should know. I hope it doesn't ruin our friendship, because that would kill me, but I couldn't go on without getting that off my chest. So here we are. You know my big secret, and now I guess it's up to you to decide whether you still want to be associated with a queer.

Thanks for being my best mate all these years.

—Seamus

Dean stared at the letter for a while after he finished reading it. This just wasn't possible. Seamus was straight, had always been straight! But the words didn't lie, and that was definitely Seamus' messy handwriting. Dean felt a grin spread across his face and found that he couldn't control it. He began walking to Gryffindor tower, intent on giving Seamus a reply to his letter.

0—0—0

Four hours after giving Dean the letter, Seamus was still berating himself for it. 'Why did I have to do that? Now he'll never speak to me again,' he thought. He sighed and buried his face in his arms. He was quite content with staying where he was, but Madame Pince soon chased him out of the library for sighing too loudly. Seamus had no option but to go back to Gryffindor tower and face Dean. He winced at the cold shoulder the other boy was bound to give him, but still trudged up the stairs and into his dormitory. Dean was nowhere in sight.

Seamus sighed once again and pulled back the curtains to his bed. There, on his pillow, was a folded sheet of paper. Seamus panicked for a split second, thinking Dean had returned his letter in disgust, but calmed when he realized that this paper was larger and heavier, like it was of high quality. Seamus unfolded it.

His image was reflected on the paper. It was a drawing of himself and Dean, laughing. In the corner was written "A picture is worth a thousand words—me, too."

Seamus suddenly felt much lighter. He laughed in relief.

"Like it?" a voice asked from the doorway. Seamus turned.

"I love it," he replied. Dean smiled in return.

"I thought the same about you, when we first met," he said.

"Really?" Seamus asked. He was still feeling incredibly giddy.

"Yeah," Dean said. "I also thought you were cute." Seamus blushed slightly. "I still do, come to think of it." Dean grinned and moved closer to Seamus. "Now why don't we share this new revelation to the rest of the school? I'd like to show off my new boyfriend."

"Sounds like a plan to me," Seamus replied. He took Dean's hand in his and the two walked out of the dormitory and into the rest of their lives.


End file.
